A LOT TO BE THANKFUL FOR
Ghostwriter Samantha Monroe has just arrived in Forever, Texas, to turn a remarkable womanâs two-hundred-year-old journals into a personal memoir. The Rodriguez clan welcomes her with open armsâ¦and awakens Samâs fierce yearning to be part of a family. But itâs the eldest sonâintensely private rancher Mike Rodriguezâwho awakens her passion.
Hiring Sam to preserve his great-great-great-grandmotherâs story for future generations was Mikeâs inspiration. He just didnât realize how much heâd want her to be part of his familyâs continuing saga. Delving into the past has made Sam hungry for a futureâwith Mike. The next move is up to himâif he doesnât make it, the best woman heâs ever met just might waltz back out of his life forever!
âWhat part of âI donât lieâ is unclear to you?â
It was apparent that his supply of patience was seriously running low.
Sam blew out a breath. âNo part,â she freely admitted. It wasnât that she didnât understand what Mike was claimingâshe just didnât know whether she actually believed him. âI just never met anyone who didnât, letâs say, âbend the truthâ once in a while when it was to their advantage.â
âWell, now you have.â He gave her a penetrating look that was meant to intimidate her. It annoyed him that it failed and yet it was also the start of grudging respect for her feistiness. âAre you going to argue with me all the way into town, or are you finally going to stop looking a gift horse in the mouth and just accept the fact that you lucked out?â he asked.
A few choice hot words rose to her lips, but she managed to keep them under wraps. Someday, though, she promised herself, she and this man were going to have it outâand she would put him in his place the way no one else apparently ever did.
Dear Reader,
I cannot remember when I first became fascinated by the various cultures of the first inhabitants of North America. Iâve been told that it seems to be a hallmark of foreign-born citizens to embrace Westerns. Me, I embraced the underdog in those Westerns. I was into learning about Native Americans way before it was popular, at a time when they were still known as Indians and no one realized that Custer provoked the confrontation at Little Big Horn because he wanted to be seen as a brave hero by the country. His goal was to be elected president the way Grant had been.
But I digress (occupational habit). When I was in fifth grade, I read a book called White Squaw, about a wife and mother who was kidnapped by Indians and eventually returned to her family. That story has stayed with me all these years. I thought it might be interesting if Mike Rodriguez decided to have someone organize and transcribe his great-great-great-grandmotherâs journals so his own grandchildren would be firmly connected to their roots. As luck would have it, Mikeâs ancestor was kidnapped by the natives of the area. And, as luck would also have it, the ghostwriter whom he hires to create a book from the journals is a widow searching for roots herself. By the time she has organized the journals into a coherent whole, she winds up capturing Mikeâs heart and he hers. Happy endings all around. (What? You were expecting maybe not?)
As always I thank you for reading. I take none of you for granted and hope I have succeeded in entertaining you. From the bottom of my heart, I wish you someone to love who loves you back.
All my best,
Marie
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marie Ferrarella, a USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Awardâwinning author, has written more than two hundred books for Harlequin, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, www.marieferrarella.com.
To Nik,
Who Finally Got It All Together And Got It Right
Prologue
The day began like all the days that had come before. It was too hot with too much to do and none of it to my liking. I was bored and yearning for excitement, for an adventure that would take me away from trying to coax a bit of green, a bit of growth out of the parched, dry ground that destroyed more than it yielded.
I was young and wanted to live before I was old and dried up before my time, like Abuela and Tia Josefina. Tia and Abuela came to live with Papa after Mama died. Papa said she died bringing me into the world. I have no way of knowing if that is true since she was gone by the time I started to remember things. But Papa does not lie, so I suppose it must be so.
Frustrated with my futile efforts in the garden, I went to fetch water from the stream that ran on our property. Anything to get away from the boredom and the hard work, if only for a moment.
The stream is always cool and I can take my shoes and stockings off so I can feel the water against my sweating skin.